


The Phantom Rebellion

by Florence_in_Silver



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anidala, Canon-Typical Violence, Darth Vader Redemption, F/M, Gen, Luke and Leia grow up in the Empire, Padmé Amidala Lives, Rebel Alliance (Star Wars), Rebellion, Redemption, Romance, Some angst, Suited Darth Vader, The Galactic Empire Is The Worst (Star Wars), Vaderdala - Freeform, path to redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florence_in_Silver/pseuds/Florence_in_Silver
Summary: Padmé lives au.With the rise of his Empire, Darth Sidious has doubts about the loyalty of his new apprentice, Darth Vader. They have a precarious understanding with each other - Vader helps build the Empire and destroy the resistance movements, and in return, Sidious allows Padmé Amidala and their two children to live. But everything changes when Sidious begins to take a careful interest in the growing Force powers of Vader's daughter.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader
Comments: 42
Kudos: 60





	1. The Apprentice

In his dream, Anakin saw Padmé. She was trying to scream as an invisible hand wrapped around her throat, clenching the life out her, but she could only gasp and thrash, unable to produce any sound from her empty lungs. The look on her face, twisted with pain and fear, sent a cold jolt through his spine.

Anakin sat up, panting and covered in sweat, and found Padmé sleeping peacefully beside him.

_ It was a dream _ , he thought.  _ It was only a dream. _

He rubbed at his eyes and tried to slow his breathing back down to normal. This was not the first time he had experienced so disturbing a dream, which was not a thought that provided him any comfort. He lay back down, still feeling his heart thud in his chest. He pulled Padmé closer to himself. She didn’t wake up, but the mere sound of her breathing and the peacefulness of her deep and uninterrupted slumber was a comfort to him.

The next day, Chancellor Palpatine revealed his true nature to Anakin. 

“Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force. Even the dark side.”

“You know the dark side?” Anakin asked, rightfully shocked.

“Use my knowledge, I beg you.”

“You’re a Sith Lord.” Anakin ignited his lightsaber, holding it out towards Palpatine. He should have struck the killing blow right then and there, but something made him hesitate. Years later, he would look back and wonder if it was the fear of the Sith Lord, himself, or the hope that Palpatine could somehow save Padmé that had stayed his hand. Either way, he had not killed Palpatine that day in the Senate building. He could never change that fact, no matter how much he would later wish for it.

Anakin did the honorable thing after that. He went to the Jedi Council and told them of Palpatine’s true nature - told Mace Windu directly.

“We must move quickly if the Jedi Order is to survive,” said Mace. He recovered from his initial shock quickly and addressed the problem with his usual cool and calm determination.

“Master, the Chancellor is very powerful. You will need my help if you’re going to arrest him.”

Mace paused, regarding Anakin for a moment. “And not just you. We’ll need many Masters to bring down the Sith.”

Finding many Jedi Masters together in one place, however, was a difficult thing to do during the Clone Wars. The Jedi were spread thin across the galaxy, with Obi-Wan Kenobi away on Utapau, Aayla Secura on Felucia, Yoda on Kashyyyk, and so many more fighting on far off planets. Others had been injured from the endless battles of the war, like Shaak Ti, who was still recovering from General Grievous’ attack on Coruscant. In the end, there were only five of them. Mace and Anakin, accompanied by Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, and Agen Kolar, were all they had to go up against the Sith Lord. It would have to be enough.

Anakin felt an uneasy ripple in the Force as soon as they stepped into the Senate building and started making their way up to the Chancellor’s office. It was cold, full of anger and fear, but there was something strangely familiar about the feeling. No one stood in their way or tried to stop them. They did not come across a single Senate guard on their way to the office. Something nagged deeply at Anakin. He tried to shake off the feeling and focus on the job at hand. The mission should always come before feelings. It was the Jedi way.

The door of the office hissed open and Mace led the way through.

“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you are under arrest, Chancellor,” Mace said, without hesitation.

Anakin, however, froze the moment he entered the office.

Palpatine was sitting calmly at his desk, leaning back and crossing his fingers in front of him. He looked as he did any other day, as if the Jedi had simply arrived to discuss a new bill in the Senate or other such humdrum matter. Of course, it was not just any other day, because this day Palpatine also happened to have Senator Amidala kneeling beside the desk. 

There were no visible ropes or bindings around her, but Anakin could sense that Palpatine was holding her in place with the Force. She winced a little in pain, and Anakin flinched.

“Ah, Anakin. So very disappointing, but I’m not quite ready to give up hope on you yet. Remember, I am your pathway to power. I have the power to save the one you love, or to…” Palpatine trailed off. He reached out with a wrinkled hand and clenched the empty air beside him. Instantly, Padmé began to choke and claw at her throat, her eyes bulging a little from the agony of it. Anakin took a step forward, but then stopped again, unsure what Palpatine would do.

“The choice is yours,” said Palpatine, squeezing harder at Padmé’s throat.

Anakin felt like time had slowed around him. He looked over toward Mace Windu and Saesee Tiin, watching their confused and concerned faces. Anakin understood Palpatine’s meaning perfectly. He drew his lightsaber and slashed Saesee Tiin across the stomach, before turning it around and stabbing it through Agen Kolar. He engaged Kit Fisto in a few blows and then landed a strike to Fisto’s thigh, dropping him to the ground. He finished him off with a stab through the neck. Anakin turned then, ready for Mace’s onslaught, but found that Mace was busy engaging Palpatine in a furious lightsaber battle. The Sith Lord’s appearance of being old and frail was quite the deception, as now Palpatine whirled and struck at Mace with a powerful fury. In the midst of battle, Palpatine had at least stopped his assault on Padmé, who now lay gasping on the floor. Anakin rushed over to her, forgetting the fight between Mace and Palpatine momentarily.

“Are you alright?” he said, falling to his knees beside her.

She was having trouble speaking after being choked, but she managed a nod. Anakin rose, ready to aid Mace and bring about an end to this Sith. Mace did seem to be gaining the upper hand. He even managed to knock the lightsaber from Palpatine’s hand and send him falling to the floor.

A bolt of blue lightning arced out of Palpatine’s fingers and struck the wall near Padmé.

“You may kill me, Jedi. But I will take her with me,” Palpatine growled, fingers still pointed at Padmé.

Mace raised his lightsaber to strike a killing blow, but then Anakin stopped him. A burst of Force energy, powered by the desperation to save his wife and unborn child, exploded out of Anakin, knocking Mace backward and up against the windows of the office. The glass held for only a moment under the strain, and then cracked and shattered, sending Mace plummeting down to the ground below. Mace screamed as he fell, but the screams faded quickly and then stopped.

“What have I done?” Anakin said, falling to his knees.

Palpatine rose and brushed off his robes, looking altogether unruffled by the fight. He smoothed his gray hair back into place and smiled at Anakin. Were it not for his golden eyes, he would have looked no different that he did in his Senate meetings.

“You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin. Become my apprentice. I will teach you power you can’t even imagine,” he said.

“Never,” Anakin spat out.

“Very well.” Palpatine raised his hand and once again began to choke Padmé.

“Wait!” Anakin shouted, and Palpatine stopped immediately. Anakin rose to his feet and looked down at Padmé, who held her bruised throat. She couldn’t speak, but she reached out and grabbed his leg, her eyes pleading. She shook her head. He looked back at Palpatine, who was grinning like he had already won. And he had.

Anakin stepped forward, out of Padmé’s grasp.

“Just don’t hurt her. She means everything to me,” he said. He kneeled before Palpatine.

“Pledge yourself to me,” Palpatine said.

“I pledge myself to you,” said Anakin, the words falling empty and cold from his mouth.

“To my teachings.”

“To your teachings.”

“To the ways of the Sith.”

Anakin looked back at Padmé, still collapsed on the floor, still clutching her throat. Her pregnancy was well visible now and Anakin could feel the life of their child, practically glowing inside of her. In that moment, there was nothing he would not have done to protect them.

“To the ways of the Sith,” Anakin repeated.

“Rise, my apprentice. You will be a powerful Sith. But a Sith apprentice needs a Sith name. Darth...Vader, you shall be.”

“Thank you, my Master,” said Anakin, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“We will begin your training immediately. You will go to the Temple and destroy the traitorous Jedi. Your wife will stay here with me. Just in case.”

Palpatine walked over and pulled Padmé to her feet, almost gently, and helped her into one of the padded office chairs.

“I understand, Master,” said Anakin. He walked to the door.

“No,” said Padmé when he reached it, the only word she was able to get out. Her voice sounded hoarse and strained.

Anakin hesitated, unable to meet her eyes. Instead he looked at Palpatine.

“Keep her safe,” he said, and Palpatine grinned and promised to do so.

***

Cin Drallig was waiting at the top of the Temple stairs, his arms clasped behind his back, flanked by four masked Temple guards. He was an abrasive older man, often referred to as “The Troll” by the Temple younglings and padawans. He had been the head of the Jedi Temple Guard for as long as Anakin had known him, however, and he was cunning and efficient at his job. He was scowling down at Vader now.

“What is the meaning of this, Skywalker?” he asked, gesturing to the legion of clone troopers behind Vader.

“The Chancellor suspects an attack on the Temple. Where is Master Shaak Ti?”

“In the meditation chambers, I believe. Why is this the first I am hearing about this?” Cin’s frown grew deeper, but Vader and the 501st Legion merely swept past him into the Temple.

Vader told Commander Appo to wait for his signal and then made his way up into the tower of the High Council. Mace Windu was dead. Yoda was away fighting with the Wookiees. Shaak Ti, though she was still recovering from injuries, was the only one left in the Temple who even resembled a threat to Vader. She was a devastating duelist, rivaling even Mace Windu with her skill and ferocity. 

Vader found her in one of the meditation rooms just a few floors below the Council chambers. She sat cross-legged on a gray seat with her eyes closed and her hands folded neatly into her lap. She was so peaceful. Peaceful and blind, as all the Jedi were. In that moment, Vader hated her. He hated all of them for their failure. It was the Jedi who had failed to realize Palpatine was the Sith Lord, the Jedi who had allowed him to gain power, and the Jedi who had put Padmé’s life at risk. 

“What is it, Skywalker?” Shaak Ti asked.

Vader drew his lightsaber and pierced her through the heart. She gasped and then collapsed onto the floor, unmoving. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of one of the chamber’s shuttered windows and saw an angry glint of gold in his eyes. He activated his commlink and told Appo to begin firing.

The ones Vader didn’t kill, he felt die. The Force shuddered around him, as all across the galaxy, the Jedi died. They were shot in the back by the clone troopers, their ships exploded, and their speeders crashed. He could also feel that the living Force signature of the clones had shifted, as well, from something unique and independent into something remarkably like a droid, void of free will. Anakin Skywalker had led the 501st Legion into so many battles before, but that day, it was Vader who led them, his new soulless army, against the Jedi Temple.

When it was done, Vader sat on the steps of the temple, watching the darkening and smoke-filled skies of Coruscant. Far away on the planet Utapau, Obi-Wan Kenobi fell from a great height and his Force presence grew murky, faded, and then was severed. Vader cringed as he felt his former master die. Then there was Ahsoka, who had once been his padawan, still fighting on Mandalore. Vader’s gut clenched as he reached out toward her through their Force connection. He felt a strange sense of tranquility, even hope, followed by a burst of fear and action, and Ahsoka’s life force remained. Somehow, she had survived. Vader wanted to call to her, to say something, but there was no safe place for her anymore and nothing he could do to help her. Instead, he severed their Force connection, cutting himself off from his former apprentice.

Vader returned to Palpatine’s office. Palpatine had donned a dark red cloak, embroidered with gold thread, over his Senate robes. He smiled pleasantly at Vader, his demeanor seemingly warm and wise. Beside him, Padmé wept quietly in her chair.

“Come, my apprentice. There is so much more to be done,” said Palpatine.

***

There was pain.

Pain was a part of being a Sith. It fueled their anger and their power, so they needed a great deal of it. Palpatine didn’t think that Vader had had enough pain in his life, so he created it. He took Vader to what had once been the Grand Republic Medical Facility, and what was now the Imperial Medical Facility. Under the Republic, it had been a place of healing, the finest in the galaxy, but Palpatine didn’t take Vader there to heal. Quite the opposite. He took Vader apart there - opened him up and sewed him back together anew. For weeks, he twisted and cut and burned the apprentice, until what had once been Anakin Skywalker was utterly unrecognizable. Only Vader remained.

Vader sat up slowly on the operating table and his first question was about Padmé. 

“Relax, my apprentice. Your wife is safe. She is at your new home next to the Imperial Palace and is receiving the finest care for her pregnancy, I assure you. I keep my promises. Your wife will be safe, as long as you are loyal.”

“Yes, my Master,” said Vader. His voice sounded different, rougher and deeper than it had been. He knew he looked different, as well, but he didn’t want to see it yet.

“I have your new uniform,” said Palpatine.

Some serving droids entered, carrying the wretched thing. It was black and shiny, like the carapace of a beetle. The body consisted of an armored suit with a belt for his lightsaber, a long black cloak, and a masked helmet. Vader reached out and took the mask, looking into its blank, reflective eyes for a long moment.

“I’ll give you a minute alone to put it on. And then a cruiser will take you to your new home,” said Palpatine, sweeping out of the room.

Vader rose slowly from the operating table. His body felt like it was on fire every time he moved, but there was a strange paradox to it; the burning pain gave him anger, and the anger made him feel more powerful than ever before. He reached out a fist and clenched it, causing the nearest serving droid to crumple into a heap of bent metal. He dropped his feet to the ground and heard a clanking sound. He had no feet, he realized - no organic feet at least. Both of his legs had been severed just above his knee and replaced with metal cybernetics, making him taller than he had once been. He found that he didn’t mind them too much, though he would have to readjust to walking with them. His left arm was still fully flesh - the only true limb remaining to him now - though the skin was much paler and had a jagged scar running up it, as if the whole arm had been sliced open and left to heal without bacta.

“Bring me a mirror,” he growled at a droid. It quickly scampered off and returned carrying a full length mirror, which it held in front of Vader.

A man looked back at him from the reflection, though it was not one he recognized nor felt any connection to. The figure in the reflection was tall and muscular and deathly pale. Deep scars laced all over his body, running from his thighs up to his torso and over his shoulders, a labyrinth of red, angry markings. There were three limbs of metal attached to him and only one of flesh that remained. And then there was the head. Vader supposed that the basic shape and the features of the face must still resemble Anakin Skywalker’s, but to him it looked completely altered. The hair was gone, even the eyelashes and eyebrows. The scar over his right eye looked even more prominent against the chalky white skin and there was a deep new scar running across his left cheek and over his lips. It was the expression, though, that truly separated this face from Anakin’s. Anakin had had a temper, but this new man radiated anger and hatred like it was his natural state of being. He glared out, golden eyes burning, and jaw tense with a willing desire to hurt others.

Vader turned away, finding he could not look at himself anymore. He snatched the black uniform from the droid and quickly put it on. When he fitted the mask and helmet over himself, he felt an odd sort of relief in his lungs. He hadn’t realized just how much they had been hurting, but the new uniform seemed to have some sort of breathing aid that soothed them. It was loud, though. The sound of his breathing rattled in and out of the suit, reminding him of the dying gasps of the clone soldiers during the war.

“Take me to my wife,” he barked at a droid.

The droid bowed and led Vader out to the cruiser that was waiting to take him home.


	2. The New Reality

_ Ten Years Later _

Padmé was awoken by the mechanical sound of a breathing machine coming into her bedroom. Anakin had been so catlike, so quiet, whenever he had come home late to her, but Vader’s helmet always announced his presence well in advance. She sat up and looked over at his black uniform and the mask that she hated so much.

“Did I wake you?” Vader asked. She could tell he was trying to sound soft, but it was difficult to do with the metallic vocoder in his helmet.

“No,” she lied. He always woke her when he came home. She stood and went over to him. He had been a head taller than her before Palpatine made the alterations, but now he towered over her. Over most people. She had to stand on her tiptoes to be able to reach up and open the helmet, which he then lifted the rest of the way off his head.

Vader’s pale and scarred face had been a shock to her the first time she had seen it. When he had returned to her from the Imperial Medical Facility, he had not even wanted to take off the uniform in her presence. Eventually she had convinced him and had barely managed to stifle a gasp at the sight of what had been done to him. After a decade with this new appearance, however, she had grown used to it, and even grown to like it. She missed Anakin’s soft eyes, though, rather than these harsh golden ones.

Padmé helped Vader out of his cloak next, then his armor, tunic, belt, and pants, leaving him in his undergarments.

“Your hands are cold,” he said with a smile, and she placed her hands flat on his bare stomach, making him flinch. He was always so warm, emitting heat like a furnace. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him, settling her face into his chest.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said.

“Me, too.” He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

She didn’t ask him about the campaign he had just returned from. She knew enough - that he had been gone for two weeks fighting rebels on Felucia - and at that moment, she didn’t want to know more. Vader did things that she would have never believed Anakin capable of, things that would keep her awake all night if she truly knew the details of them. As it were, Vader had enough trouble sleeping for the both of them. He would toss and mutter throughout the night, and sometimes be jolted awake by some horrid nightmare. The only thing that seemed to help him was having Padmé near him.

Vader picked her up and laid her gently in the bed, before climbing under the covers with her. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer, so that her back was flush against his chest. He leaned into her soft brown hair and breathed deeply. Padmé knew that his lungs ached whenever he took off his suit and mask, but he insisted that it was worth it. 

Their peaceful moment didn’t last, however, as their bedroom door slid open and two nine-year-olds came rushing into the room. Vader barely had time to sit up before Leia flung herself into his arms, soon followed by Luke.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you both,” said Vader, kissing them both on their foreheads.

“When did you get home?” Leia asked.

“Just a few moments ago. I didn’t want to wake you.” He pulled the twins up onto the bed in between him and Padmé. 

“We don’t mind,” said Luke.

Vader laughed a little at that. Padmé watched him with a small smile on her face, thinking that he never looked so gentle or happy as when he was with their children.

“Where were you?” Leia asked.

“I was on a planet called Felucia.”

“Doing what?”

Leia always had a thousand questions whenever Vader came home from his missions.

“Keeping the Emperor’s peace,” said Vader. It was his usual answer to such questions - a diplomatic answer, but one that made Padmé want to shudder. This time, though, Vader got a distant look in his eye after he said it.

“I’m sorry about Appo,” said Leia, reaching out to touch his left hand, the only limb of his still made of flesh and bone. 

Vader frowned at her. “How do you know about Appo?”

Leia gave a little shrug and leaned back into Padmé’s arms. Vader looked up at Padmé, still looking concerned.

“I had a dream,” said Leia, after a moment. “I saw a soldier in brown rags shooting at the 501st. She hit Appo and he fell.”

“Is that true? Is Appo dead?” Padmé asked.

Appo had been one of the clone troopers in the 501st Legion who had followed Vader back when he was still Anakin Skywalker. Appo had been more rigid and rule-following than Captain Rex had been, but he had had a dry wit about him on his off hours. Padmé had liked him. Then Order 66 had been given, and Appo, like the rest of the clones, had become little more than an empty shell. The 501st retained their loyalty to Vader, and he seemed to like having them with him, more so than the new stormtrooper recruits. And empty shell or not, Padmé felt a pang of sadness at Appo’s death.

“It’s true. CC-1119 fought very bravely, but he was shot down by a rebel,” said Vader. His voice sounded stiff and cold as he used Appo’s official clone number, rather than his nickname. 

_ Not just a nickname, his true name _ , Padmé thought.

Leia and Luke both seemed to sense their father’s mood. They were quiet, looking down at the sheets of the bed.

Vader shook his head a little and forced a smile, ruffling Luke’s hair as he did so.

“I tell you, they don’t make soldiers like that anymore. Back in the Clone Wars, all I needed was the 501st behind me and I could do just about anything, any mission. They were loyal, but they were so much more. They were clever and creative. They knew how to improvise in a battle situation.” 

For a brief moment, Padmé saw a hint of Anakin in the eyes of Vader as he spoke of his old unit.

“But,” he continued, “they are getting older and slower. The ten years since the rise of the Empire have been like twenty for them. I’ve had to replace more and more of them with stormtroopers, and I’m lucky if I can get one capable of shooting a rancor standing right beside them.”

The accelerated aging of the clones was taking its toll. They were well into their equivalent forties by now, past their prime years of soldiering. Most of the other clone units had already been retired, but Vader had held onto the 501st for longer than most Imperial officers. They wouldn’t last much longer, though, Padmé knew. Soon enough, each one would either fall in battle or be sent back to Kamino for retirement - a euphemism that really meant they would be dissected, dismantled, and disposed of.

“I never want to go to Kamino,” said Leia, looking up at her mother.

Padmé wondered for a moment if she had said any of her thoughts aloud, but judging by Vader’s expression, she thought that she hadn’t. Leia was growing awfully perceptive.

“You never have to. But you do need to go to bed. Both of you,” said Padmé.

With groans, Luke and Leia hopped back off the bed and ran toward their bedroom. Vader was quiet as he watched them go, and Padmé watched him.

“She’s getting stronger with the Force,” he said, so softly.

“They both are. Luke lifted a table the other day.”

“But Leia sees things. She knows things. Not every Force sensitive being can do that. I’m not sure even I can do that.”

“What does that mean?”

Vader got a strange look in his eyes, sort of ambitious and hopeful in a way Padmé wasn’t sure she liked.

“It means she’s going to be strong. She’ll be so strong,” he said.

He smiled at Padm é and she forced herself to smile back. She felt no happiness at the thought. A powerful daughter and a powerful son were the last things that she wanted. When Luke and Leia were born, she had hoped that they would be like her, unconnected to the powers of the Force. However, they had begun to show signs of their abilities when they were no more than toddlers, levitating small objects around the rooms of the palace. Vader had managed to keep them with Padmé, taking on their training in the Force himself, but Padmé dreaded what might happen if the Emperor decided it was time for them to join his armies.

There was nothing in the galaxy that Padmé loved more than Leia and Luke, and she had brought them into a world that was corrupt and cruel. They deserved better, a better life. Padmé just wasn’t sure yet how to give it to them. She didn’t even know how to keep them safe sometimes.

Vader settled back down in the bed and pulled Padmé to him once more. She tried to relax and to let herself fall asleep in his arms, but she found herself laying awake far into the early hours of the morning.

***

Padmé awoke the next day, not feeling refreshed at all, but at least feeling slightly calmer about everything. Nothing seemed as scary in the warm daylight as it did in the middle of the night. Though, she supposed, there was still plenty to be afraid of.

“Do you have to leave again soon? Or can you stay here?” Padmé asked Vader.

They sat together, eating a breakfast of jogan fruit, bantha sausages, and hot caf beside the window. From up so high in their palace, Coruscant looked much the same as it always had. The buildings were unchanged and the residents were still bustling about below, walking along the pathways and flying in their hovercrafts. The only noticeable difference was the flags of the Empire, waving over the buildings, having replaced those of the Republic. Going down into the city, however, the changes became more apparent. The opulent wealth of the upper levels had grown, shown in the magnificent palaces and gardens of the Imperial elite, while in the lower levels, the poverty was devastating, nearly all consuming. Coruscant had had its wealth inequalities, but nothing like this. It wasn’t even called Coruscant anymore. It was the Imperial City, located on the Imperial Center planet.

“I am due for a trip to Nur, but I should be gone only for a few rotations. Empire Day will be here soon, and I think the Emperor will want me here for that.”

As much as Padmé hated Empire Day, she did like the thought of having Vader home with them. She felt safer when he was around.

“Good,” she said, taking his left hand.

He squeezed back gently.

A ball went whizzing over their heads and bounced into one of the serving droids. Vader lifted the ball with the Force and stood up, turning to their guilty-looking children.

“This doesn’t look like studying,” said Vader.

Luke shifted his feet a little, looking down at the floor.

“Sorry, Fa-” he began, but Leia interrupted him.

“Luke was studying. He was practicing his control of the Force, by seeing if he could guide the ball through a series of obstacles and then hit a target,” she said quickly.

“And this target?” asked Vader.

“The droid.”

Leia gave Luke a nudge and he nodded in agreement with her.

“We’ll practice with the Force this afternoon. But your mother insists that you receive a full education,” said Vader.

The twins nodded and ran back to their tutor droid. Vader dropped the ball into his hand and set it down on the table. For a moment, he looked like Anakin again, proud and kind and a little mischievous. But his eyes still burned golden yellow and Padmé reminded herself that he was, and perhaps always would be, Darth Vader.

“So what are the plans for Empire Day this year?” Padmé asked when Vader sat back down at the breakfast table.

“A grand parade and fireworks, as usual. The Emperor also wants to hold a celebration in the Imperial Palace for his officers and bureaucrats. He has asked for Luke and Leia to attend. He says it has been too long since he’s seen them.”

Padmé felt her whole body tense at the thought. Vader seemed to sense this and looked up at her.

“We cannot refuse the Emperor,” he said.

She crossed her arms.

“I know,” she said.

“He has already given us a great deal of freedom, allowing us to raise Luke and Leia, allowing me to train them outside of Imperial facilities.”

_ Freedom _ , thought Padmé. They certainly did not have freedom _. _

Aloud, though, she agreed with Vader. They had little choice but to obey the Emperor and take the twins to the grand celebration.

***

Emperor Palpatine sat in his throne room, with four members of the Red Royal Guard standing around him, holding their Force pikes at attention. They were used to remaining that way, as unmoving as statues, for hours on end, while Palpatine dealt with the usual meetings and reports that came from running an Empire. He knew, though, that at the merest hint of a threat toward his safety and the members of the Red Guard would leap into action. They were loyal and efficient warriors, carefully selected and even more carefully trained. And other than Lord Vader and Mas Amedda, they were the only ones aware of his true abilities.

Palpatine flicked through the latest report from Felucia and the swift defeat of the insurgent forces there. Vader rarely disappointed Palpatine in that regard. He was a brutal fighter and an even more ruthless commander, growing ever stronger in the Force. The military officers despised him, either out of jealousy or fear, but for the stormtroopers, Vader seemed almost a deity. Palpatine looked down the empty hall of the throne room for a moment, thinking back to their time spent in the Imperial Medical Facility.

Anakin Skywalker had been a Jedi of such powerful potential. Knighted and made a general at just 19 years of age, he had quickly distinguished himself during the Clone Wars. He had done things that even Master Yoda had been incapable of. Palpatine had taken an early interest in him, of course, and had begun grooming Anakin for his new role almost as soon as the boy had arrived at the Jedi Temple. The boy had, however, been more resistant to the pull of the dark side than Palpatine had expected. It had been an annoying obstacle, but not an impossible one. Everyone had their price and all Palpatine had to do was find the right strings to pull at the exact right time. Padmé Amidala had offered the perfect string and Anakin had soon enough fallen into his role as Darth Vader.

Yes, he was a powerful apprentice. Too powerful, Palpatine sometimes thought.

It was the way of the Sith that the master would maintain strength and the apprentice would maintain competence and utter loyalty. It could take time to find the right apprentice, and Darth Sidious had been disappointed with his first two attempts, Maul, who lacked competence, and Dooku, who lacked loyalty. But with Vader, Palpatine found enormous potential. With his family safely contained on Imperial Center, Vader’s loyalty never faltered. As for his competency, Vader sought out rebel fighters and Jedi survivors with a singular and unflinching focus. He filled his role as apprentice well and so it fell to Palpatine to keep his role as master.

It was almost inevitable for the Sith to kill each other in the end. Either the apprentice disappointed their master and was disposed of, or the master grew too weak and was killed and succeeded by the apprentice. Palpatine did not intend for the latter to ever happen. Anakin Skywalker had been full of power. It had existed in every drop of his blood, every cell in his body. And so he had taken steps to keep Vader limited. Palpatine had taken away pieces of him - his legs, his blood, his flesh - and in doing so had reduced Vader’s power to a more manageable level. The apprentice was still frighteningly strong, but not nearly at the level of Darth Sidious.

Palpatine set down the datapad on the arm of his throne, satisfied with the subjugation of Felucia. He chuckled a little to himself. The dark side was tricky thing, seductive, but deceptive. It allowed those who used it to access tremendous power. Vader, no doubt, was not even aware of what Palpatine had taken away from him. He thought he had been made stronger from his time on the operating table, rather than weakened.

A member of the Red Guard received a message in his earpiece and leaned down to deliver it to the Emperor.

“Moff Mors is here to see you,” he said.

With Felucia conquered and secure, it was time to shift his focus to the next planet that showed a growing insurgency. It seemed as soon as one rebellion was put down, a new one bloomed up. He was grateful to the rebels for that in a way. The reports on their defeats, at least, gave him something interesting to read.

“Show her in,” commanded Palpatine.


	3. The Inquisitorius

Vader’s ship, a black  _ lambda _ -class shuttle, touched down on the landing platform, its wings raised up into the landing conformation. Flicking the switches, Vader powered down the ship and lowered the ramp before walking onto the platform. It was night on this side of Nur and so the vast oceans of the moon stretched out inky black around him. The visible part of the Fortress Inquisitorius jutted up from the sea, a great black spire shaped like a knife’s blade. The majority of the fortress, however, existed under the water. There, hidden by the sea, were the interrogation rooms, detention blocks, and training grounds. Even unseen, though, Vader could feel the waves of pain and despair coming out of the fortress, both from the prisoners and the Inquisitors themselves.

_ Strength through pain _ , he reminded himself.

The Grand Inquisitor was waiting for Vader at the triangular entrance to the fortress. There were two purge troopers behind him, who both saluted Vader, much to the Grand Inquisitor’s annoyance. He was a Pau’an, tall and pale, with red tattoos under his eyes and jaggedly sharp teeth. He made little effort to hide his dislike of Vader. He had wanted to be the sole commander of the Inquisitors and resented the fact that Vader was put in charge of their training. But seethe as he might, his skill level was far below Vader’s. He posed little threat to Vader and he had, on multiple occasions, been made well aware of that.

“Lord Vader,” said the Grand Inquisitor, bowing his head only slightly. “We were expecting you sooner.”

“My  _ apologies _ , Inquisitor,” said Vader, striding past him and into the fortress without pause. 

The purge troopers fell into step behind Vader, leaving the Grand Inquisitor to follow behind them. They entered into a turbolift and descended down beneath the water line, deep into the sunken depths of the fortress.

“Gather the Inquisitors in the training room. I understand we have a new recruit,” said Vader.

“Yes, my lord. A suitable replacement for Second Sister,” said the Grand Inquisitor. 

Vader looked over at him for a moment, eyeing him through the red lenses of his mask.

“We shall see.”

They walked through the glass tunnels, under schools of strange fish that were native to Nur. Vader led them through the familiar route to the training room, where several of the Inquisitors were already practicing. The Grand Inquisitor left to gather the others and Vader leaned against the wall of the chamber to observe them. Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother were sparring in the center of the room. They were both early recruits into the Inquisitorius program and had managed to keep themselves alive for the first decade of the Empire. They were more skilled than most of their fellows, which did not say much to their credit. The Inquisitors were merely a tool for the Emperor. They were effective enough at hunting down padawans and low-level Jedi knights, but they were no match for a true Jedi. Vader kept them that way, trained well enough for their purpose, but not enough that they could become a true threat. 

Seventh Sister, more skilled with a lightsaber than Fifth Brother, struck his blade out his hand and brought her own to his throat.

“A mediocre performance,” said Vader, stepping forward to them.

They hadn’t noticed him, too distracted by their fight, and now they flinched. Seventh Sister switched off her lightsaber and both she and Fifth Brother bowed, saying nothing.

“Perhaps you need greater motivation,” Vader continued.

Fifth Brother looked down at his mechanical prosthetic, his replacement after Vader had severed his right hand.

“Of course, my lord,” said Fifth Brother, keeping his eyes down.

Vader didn’t cut off any of their limbs, however, not today at least. He waved his own mechanical hand, dismissing them.

The Grand Inquisitor reentered then and called for the Inquisitors to stand for inspection. There were eleven of them now, including the Grand Inquisitor. The Emperor only allowed for a maximum of twelve at a time. As one fell, though, they could be replaced by another, with their title reused. Vader’s eyes flicked to Ninth Sister, the third or fourth Ninth Sister they had had. The original one had been an ill-tempered Dowatin who had been killed by a mere padawan, but this most recent one was more promising. She was a young Togruta with red skin and white patterning that resembled Shaak Ti’s. Instead of violet eyes, however, she had golden ones, as did they all. 

Vader turned to the Grand Inquisitor and then to the new recruit, the new Second Sister. She stepped forward and bowed to him. She was a Kaleesh, a rare enough find so far from Wild Space, but a welcome one. The Kaleesh were devastating fighters, even those who lacked the Force, so a Force-sensitive one could have great promise. She was young, likely a recruit from the Arkanis Institution, the base of Project Harvester. With the Inquisitorius, the Emperor had built his little army of Force-sensitives, but Vader would never allow any of them to surpass his own strength.

***

After the training session, Vader walked back through the quiet corridors to his temporary chambers. Most of the Inquisitors had rooms up in the towers of the Fortress, but Vader preferred to be closer to the detention cells and interrogation rooms, where the air was thick with fear. It was more difficult to meditate and to fully immerse himself in the dark side when he was home with Padmé and the children. Here though, he could sink so easily into it, drawing on the pain of the prisoners and mixing it with his own. He could burn with rage and release it out into the Force, all with no worry of harming his family. He was learning things, too, things even his master did not want to teach him, secrets whispered to him in the Force.

Vader reached his rooms. They were plain and bare - gray walls, gray floor, hard narrow bed - decorated in the austere style of the Imperial military. There was a bacta tank in one of the connecting rooms, which cast a sickly green light on everything. Vader did not need it for now, however. He went first into the refresher and cleaned Second Sister’s blood off of his glove. It was important to teach the new recruits loss, to teach them how to keep fighting through their pain. She had survived her first lesson and she would be a stronger fighter because of it.

Vader went into the meditation chamber and sat down on the cold floor. He removed his helmet and allowed the painful burn of breathing without it to fill his lungs. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into the dark side. Reaching out, he could feel the desperation of the prisoners, could hear them begging for the release of death. 

Strength through pain.

And he was growing stronger.

***

As the day passed, Luke and Leia went out onto the northern balconies of their home, which had been converted into a sort of training ground for them. Three bulky and heavily-armed guard droids stood around the edges of the balcony to protect them. Vader didn’t allow any stormtroopers or Imperial guards in their palace. He didn’t trust them not to be spies for the Emperor. He had, however, built or reprogrammed all manner of serving and protecting droids for his family to use. 

It could be lonely, for Padmé as well as Luke and Leia, to be surrounded by so many inorganics. The twins seemed happy enough with just each others’ company, at least. In public, Padmé played the role that she supposed to. She was the charming and courteous wife of an Imperial officer. She was polite to the politicians, military leaders, and their spouses at the official functions. She even saw several of the same senators that she had once served with in the Republic Congress, such as Orn Free Taa and Halle Burtoni. The Kaminoan had been old in the days of the Republic and was now approaching ancient, but that did little to temper her Kaminoan’s sharp tongue. There were many senators, however, who Padmé missed terribly since they had left the Imperial Center, and none more so than Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. In the days preceding the rise of the Empire, the three of them together had organized the Delegation of 2,000, the coalition of Republic senators and representatives who had formally opposed Palpatine’s actions during the Clone Wars. But the Empire had risen all the same and when it did, it became a dangerous thing to be a member of the Delegation of 2,000. Padmé, as Vader’s wife, had been protected from it all, but the others had not been so lucky. Some were openly arrested and executed for sedition, like Malé-Dee and Fang Zar. Others disappeared and were likely executed, as well. Most, however, were allowed to resign from the Senate and return to their homeworlds. Both Bail and Mon had been granted this fate. Padmé suspected they were too influential for the Emperor to kill them outright, especially in the early days of the Empire. They would have just become martyrs for even greater rebellions. Padmé wasn’t sure where they were now, but she missed them and she hoped they were safe.

Padmé stood at the window, lost in her thoughts, but then she turned her attention back to watching Luke and Leia in the training area. Even without their father around, they were diligent about practicing their skills in the Force. Luke was lifting a small weight into the air, keeping it as steady as he could. Leia was attempting the same, though her weight was shaking and wavering. Luke had been quicker to grasp the physical side of the Force. Leia, though, was perceptive. As Vader had said before, she was going to be strong. Her face was twisted up in a frown of concentration now, trying so hard to keep the weight still in the air. She glanced up at Padmé for a moment and dropped it. Padmé gave her a wince of apology and then turned away from the window, leaving them to their practice. 

Vader’s absence always made Padmé feel unsettled and exposed, but it did allow her certain opportunities. She retreated back into the interior rooms of their palace. She walked through the hallways, passing by the bedroom doors, and down the stairs to the central levels, where Vader’s personal offices and meditation chambers were. There was a droid standing guard outside the door, as always, but Padmé slipped a customized restraining bolt onto its metal chest plate and quietly entered the rooms. There was a meditation pod in the center of the largest room, looking like a shiny black egg. Padmé wasn’t interested in that, however, so she continued back into the communications office, where Vader kept his directives and battle plans.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to see, and flicked on the holotable. She pulled up the images of the most recent plans and pulled out a small camera that could be easily concealed in her sleeve. She photographed them, flipping through the holoimages, and then shut off the table, before moving over to the desk. There were some flimsi documents laying in neat stacks on top of it. She flipped through them, photographing the most important looking ones. She tried not to read any of them too carefully, however, still not quite able to stomach knowing the details of Empire’s cruelty and her husband’s role in it. She paused, however, seeing a file labeled “Project Harvester.” She flicked open the file and saw an image of a Zabrak infant. She knew she should just take her photos and leaves, but instead she found herself reading the report.

“Daughter of Eeth Koth… taken to Arkanis… nursemaids will reprogram,” she muttered aloud to herself as she read. 

She flipped the page and saw an image of two figures in red robes and white masks and one of a young child.

“Ashla… survivor of the Temple siege… recovered from Shili… brought to Arkanis for reprogramming.”

Padmé had seen enough. She photographed the pages and then replaced everything on the desk just as she had found it. She returned back out into the hallway, removing the restraining bolt from the droid as she went.

Back in her bedroom, Padmé connected the camera to a transmitter and sent the photos under an encryption to her contact on Coruscant. He would send them on to an agent called Fulcrum, a rebel intelligence coordinator, who would then distribute the information to the rest of the rebel cells, as needed.

It was a dangerous game that Padmé was playing and she knew that well. She returned the camera and the transmitter to their usual hiding spot, concealed within the mattress of her bed. The bedroom was one of the few rooms off limits to the cleaning droids, though hiding her rebellious equipment so close to where Vader slept made Padmé want to clench her teeth with worry. She kept doing it, though, because in a strange way, it was the only thing that allowed her to sleep at night. She wanted to protect her children, protect her husband, everything, but she couldn’t see the things she saw, the oppression under the new Galactic Empire, and do nothing.

So she took pictures. And she hoped some good would come of them.

“Mom, he’s home!” shouted Luke from their living room.

Padmé was a little startled. She wasn’t expecting Vader back from Nur so soon. She double checked the bed, making sure the camera was properly hidden and then, taking a deep steadying breath, she went out toward the landing platform to greet him.


	4. Fulcrum

Ahsoka Tano climbed up the purple cliffside, feeling the rough rock face scratch across her palms. She was on a small moon, tucked away in an unremarkable and rather empty solar system in the core of the galaxy. The moon itself was uninhabited with sapient life, but covered with colorful mountains and grasslands. It reminded her vaguely of Shili, her home planet, which she had not seen for years. Though perhaps she would get to return to it someday.

She kept climbing. It did no good to think about the past or the possible future. There was too much in the present for her to focus on, far too much.

She kept climbing until she reached the top of the cliff, where she had left her starship, one given to her by Bail Organa. She had constructed a communications tower beside the ship, where she could connect to the single small satellite in orbit around the moon. Alone on this tiny world, she could reach the whole galaxy. She could receive and send messages to anyone. 

Ahsoka set her bag down on the rocks. She had spent the morning hunting the little ratlike creatures that scurried through the valley below the cliff, but she wasn’t yet hungry for them. She was expecting a message today from Coruscant - or rather, from the Imperial Center. The rebellion had someone on the inside, someone with access to military plans. Ahsoka wasn’t sure who it was, and she didn’t need to know, but she hoped they were being careful. The rebellion needed the information, but Ahsoka knew that getting caught by Palpatine would mean a fate far worse than death for the spy.

The communications tower beeped and Ahsoka ran over to it. The message and pictures came encrypted in broken pieces, and she worked quickly to decrypt them and put them back together.

“An increased assault on Ryloth, expanding further into the outer rim. Heavy recruitment. Fleet expansion. Project Harvester,” she muttered to herself. She frowned as she looked it all over.

The message had reached her. Next came the hard part.

Ahsoka had so much information at her fingertips - detailed battle plans and locations of Imperial forces, military hyperspace lanes and schedules of supply freighters. She couldn’t send out all this information to all the various rebel cells, however. For one thing, most of the cells were unaware of each other. It was done to keep them safe, so that if one cell was captured by the Empire, they would be unable to leak any information about the other cells. The release of too much information could also reveal the identity of the spy to the Empire and halt the flow of information from them. Ahsoka had to be subtle with such information. She had to pick and choose which bits of the plans she sent out and which she held back. When Bail Organa had recruited her to the rebellion, she had told him that she didn’t want to be a commander again. She didn’t want to be responsible for so many lives, as she had been in the Clone Wars. And yet, here she was, alone on a moon somewhere, directing the flow of information, affecting the lives and successes of the rebellion, without truly being a part of it.

Fulcrum, they called her. She was the hinge upon which so much of the rebellion rested. The weight of that responsibility, and the guilt that inherently came with it, was daunting to say the least. It was, however, infinitely better than doing nothing.

The communication tower beeped again and Ahsoka frowned. She wasn’t expecting anything else that day.

This message was shorter than the first and it came from Felucia. She knew there had been an Imperial attack there, but had not yet heard the confirmation of the results. Now, here it was.

_ Resistance base discovered. Most of the escape shuttles shot down before escape. General Concannon activated self-destruct of the base. Resistance plans destroyed before the Imperials arrived. Confirmed casualties: 234. Confirmed survivors: 11. Imperials forces led by Darth Vader.  _

Ahsoka relayed the message on to Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, and then turned away from the tower and went to sit on the edge of the cliff, looking out on the bright valley and the vast and empty expanses of land beyond it. Darth Vader was becoming more and more common in the messages. He was a strange and horrifying figure. No one seemed to know much, or anything, about him really. He had appeared soon after the rise of the Empire, a figure in a black mask who wielded a red bladed lightsaber. He had since been named the second-in-command to the Emperor and the Supreme Leader of the Imperial Navy. From the communications that Ahsoka received, she knew that Vader was a devastating fighter. He almost never took captives, but instead slaughtered the rebels immediately. Ahsoka supposed that was a small blessing, in a terrible way. Rebel survivors were often taken back to a place called Nur, where they were questioned by the Inquisitorius. It was probably a better fate to just be quickly killed by Vader.

A wind blew across the valley, shaking the blue and red grasses like a dance. It was beautiful on this moon, and peaceful in a way that drove Ahsoka crazy. She craved the peace and hated it at the same time. At least in the fury of battle, she knew why she was so afraid and on edge, but now there was nothing attacking her, no physical enemy to fight. Instead, she feared what was to come and she feared what was happening and she wondered if what she was doing was actually helping.

Ahsoka closed her eyes and tried to meditate, but all she could think about was how this had all happened. 

She had been on board a Republic Star Destroyer, returning from the Siege of Mandalore and the hunt for Maul. Anakin had given her a unit from the 501st Legion to help her with the task, led by the recently promoted Commander Rex. The clone troopers in her command had each painted their helmets orange and white to match the pattern of her own facial markings. It had been Anakin’s idea, and Ahsoka had been touched by it all.

Allied with Bo-Katan and her Nite Owl commandos, they had been victorious in capturing Maul. Ahsoka and Rex had even allowed themselves a moment to hope as they traveled through hyperspace, on their way back to Coruscant. The war had seemed to be coming to a swift end. After all, Count Dooku and General Grievous had been killed, Maul had been captured, and it had seemed like the Separatists would soon surrender, like the galaxy would at last be at peace.

Ahsoka had stood, watching the bright and swirling lights of hyperspace, when it had happened. The purge had begun.

It had been so strange for Ahsoka to see each and every one of the clones turn to her and then attack her. With their painted helmets, it had been like a dozen versions of her own face, and all fighting against her. Worst of all, even Rex had turned his guns on her. 

Ahsoka had escaped through the ventilation shafts of the ship. She had been desperate and her desperation had made her do something rash and foolish. She had released Maul. 

“Now go cause some chaos,” she had told him. “It’s what your good at.”

And he had. Maul had slaughtered the clone troopers, ripped apart the hyperdrive engines of the Star Destroyer, and sent the ship on a collision course with a moon. He had escaped and disappeared back into the galaxy.

Somehow in the chaos, Ahsoka, with the help of three brave little astromechs, had managed to find Rex and remove the control chip from his head. Together they had escaped from the doomed Star Destroyer in a y-wing. The rest of the clones and the droids had not been so lucky. They had been trying to kill her with such a single-minded focus that they hadn’t even tried to evacuate the ship. Rex had landed the y-wing near the wreckage of the Star Destroyer and together they had watched in silence as it burned on the moon’s surface.

With the shock of the attack over, Ahsoka had felt the horrors across the Empire. She had felt Shaak Ti’s death first, but then many followed. Plo Koon, Stass Allie, Aayla Secura. They all blew out like so many dying fires in the wind. And then, she had felt her connection to Anakin break, as her former master and mentor died.

She and Rex had slept out on the rocky ground that night, that first night of the new Empire, both shivering in the cold. Their meager campfire hadn’t seemed able to chase away the chill they had both felt. Rex had cried silently and Ahsoka had tucked her head into her knees and tried to block out the Force as best she could.

They had spent three rotations on the moon, pulling the bodies out of the wreckage and burying them. Then they had flown the y-wing to the nearest spaceport, and there they had parted ways, thinking it safer to go alone. Ahsoka had headed for the outer rim. She didn’t know where Rex had ended up and she could only hold onto hope that he was ok.

Ahsoka had wanted to avoid the war, to run from it at first. But there were good people in the galaxy, and she couldn’t bear what was happening to them. After her time on the farming planet of Raada, she had found herself back with Bail Organa, who put her in charge of information dissemination for the rebellion. 

So now here she was, the Spymaster for the rebellion, watching and waiting.  Perhaps other members of the Jedi Order had survived. She couldn’t be the only one, could she? The last of the Jedi? 

No, she didn’t think so.

She hadn’t felt Master Obi-Wan die, after all, though neither Bail nor Mon Mothma had been able to confirm his survival either. She hoped he was out there somewhere, and that he was able to find some sort of peace.

But she doubted it.

Next to her, the bag of ratlike creatures twitched. Ahsoka took one out and bit into it. They didn’t taste as good as the thimiars of Shili that she had eaten as a child, but they were a nice break from her supply of protein bars. She chewed quietly. The whole moon was quiet.

Ahsoka wasn’t even sure if she was still a Jedi. She also wasn’t sure if it mattered much anymore. She didn’t deny the flaws of the Order. They had been arrogant and blind at times. The Jedi Code, calling for the suppression of all emotions and attachments, had perhaps caused more problems than it had fixed for them. In spite of all that, however, the Jedi had been her family, and the only family she had had for a long time. She still had parents on Shili, she supposed, though she didn’t really know them. 

She missed the Jedi. She missed the clones.

Perhaps she should ask for a mission from Bail Organa. Maybe she would feel better if she were more actively doing something. Her two lightsaber handles still hung at her belt, though she hadn’t even activated them in months. She still trained with sticks, practiced using the Force, and kept herself in shape, but she avoided the lightsabers. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she told the empty moon.

The moon said nothing back.

Ahsoka finished eating the little rodent and lay back on the rocks, looking up at the blue sky. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

***

Ahsoka’s dreams that night were strange and disturbing. That, in itself, was not unusual. She often had nightmares about the Jedi purge and about the Clone Wars before it, but these dreams did not feel like memories. They felt like Force visions. They felt real.

Ahsoka saw a girl, a human child, lying in a stone room, surrounded by beings who wore thick, hooded cloaks. It was cold in the room, like a void, but the girl did not shiver. Her head was shaved and she was clad only in a simple gray dress, not enough to give her any real warmth. The girl sat suddenly upright and went perfectly still, with her eyes closed and her arms raised.

The girl opened her eyes and Ahsoka felt a jolt deep inside her.

The eyes were golden, full of a hatred, though it was a devastating and unemotional sort of hatred. Cold radiated out from the girl, as if emitted from her very core. Ahsoka had never felt a presence quite like that, not even from Maul.

There was already a Sith Master and an Apprentice, so who was this girl?

The golden eyes turned to her and it was as if, even in the dream, the girl could see Ahsoka.

A voice screamed out, somewhere deep in Ahsoka’s mind. It sounded almost like Padmé Amidala.

Ahsoka jerked awake, finding herself back on the mountain of her moon. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, and felt a chill despite the warm night.

What new horror was this?

***

The days passed, each one just like the others.

Ahsoka woke early in the mornings and checked the messages in the communications tower. She climbed down the cliff and caught rodents and small birds to eats. She climbed back up the cliff. She checked the messages. She looked at maps and planned and plotted the rebellion that was happening around her. At night she dreamed.

Then one day, she sent a message to Bail Organa.

_ In need of a new assignment, _ was all it said.

It didn’t take long for Ahsoka to receive a reply message, one that was nearly as short and unspecific as her own. All it had in it were coordinates and a time to meet at them.

Ahsoka dismantled the communications tower and carried the pieces onto her ship. She took one last look out at the moon, and its purple stone hills, shining red in the light of the setting sun. She climbed into the cockpit and flew the ship upward, out of the atmosphere and back into the galaxy.


	5. Empire Day

Leia could feel the tension and nervousness in her mother’s mind, but she said nothing about it. Her mother didn’t seem to like it when Leia pried too deeply into her emotions, so instead, Leia turned away, toward her father and brother.  Luke was simple enough. His emotions were always right on the surface, easy for Leia to perceive. Tonight, he was excited and a little nervous, but not in the same way that their mother was nervous. He was only worried about doing something embarrassing in front of the Emperor and all the high-ranking officers. Leia gave his hand a gentle squeeze and Luke smiled at her. 

Then there was their father. Leia didn’t like the way his emotions felt, so she rarely reached out to sense them. She did so tonight, though. Her curiosity got the better of her. There was something sort of shattered about him, fractured and angry. There was guilt that weighed him down, rage that drove him forward, and a mix of fear and love that were bound so tightly together within him. In person, she had only seen her father be gentle and kind to her mother and to Luke and herself. He was never violent. He rarely even raised his voice. But sometimes she saw other things. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she saw him out on the distant planets, surrounded by members of the 501st clone legion and the new stormtrooper units. He was never gentle when she saw him like that. 

Leia winced a little at the thought. She never should have mentioned that she saw Appo’s death. Both her parents had been acting strange since then.

“Can we go?” asked Luke, fidgeting uncomfortably in his formal tunic.

“I’m not quite ready,” said their mother.

She was putting on a pair of earrings, gold to match the embroidery on her long red dress. Leia had seen a few pictures of their mother back when she had been the Queen of Naboo. This dress wasn’t quite as elaborate as those had been, but it resembled the style and the elegance. Leia didn’t feel nearly as elegant in her own tunic and trousers, but she was certainly more comfortable. 

“We should leave soon,” said their father, his voice coming out deep and rattling through the vocoder. He only removed his helmet at their home, so in preparation for going out he was wearing his full uniform, shiny black and synthetic.

“Alright,” said their mother. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. She smiled, but Leia could feel there was no true joy in it.

Their father smiled, too. Leia couldn’t see, but she knew he did. His anger lessened when he looked at their mother, though his fear always remained. There was a new sadness within him, too, as if he knew their mother didn’t want to go to the celebration.

But they had to go. The Emperor expected it.

They climbed into a hovership, which their father drove over the streets of the Imperial City to the Imperial Palace. Their home was not far away and it was a short enough trip.

It was early evening, and still warm in the city. The Palace shone with thousands of lights in the darkness, glittering even brighter than the rest of the illuminated planet. They climbed out of the hovercraft and their father handed it over to a droid to park. He offered his arm to their mother, who took it, and then led the way up the steps to the Palace. Luke and Leia followed along afterwards, passing the lines of stormtroopers who stood along the entrance as guards. Two figures in red robes stood on either side of the doors. They were the Emperor’s Royal Guard, his personal protectors. There would be more of them around his throne, Leia knew. They always made her a little nervous. There was something blank and empty about them. She nodded politely to them and then hurried through the main doors after her parents.

Leia heard the music spilling out of the main room before they entered, as a band played a rousing sort of patriotic song, the same they had played earlier in the day at the parade. Banners of the Empire hung red, black, and white all around the entry hall, and then they entered the ballroom.

“The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, Lord Vader. His wife, Padmé of Naboo, and their children, Luke and Leia,” announced a droid.

Leia wanted to curl up and hide as all the eyes in the room turned toward them, but she forced herself to straighten her spine and to smile out at the commanders, senators, and governmental officials of the Empire. Luke flinched a little, so Leia took his hand, helping to steady him.

On the far side of the room, sitting in a throne on a raised dais, was the Emperor.

At first glance, he didn’t seem particularly threatening, though, of course, Leia knew better. He was an old man, gray-haired and wrinkled, and not very tall. He had a kindly demeanor, like a grandfather, and always seemed ready to give advice. Their own father, who was  himself  a powerful and imposing figure, feared the Emperor, and so Leia had learned from a young age that she must, as well. Now as they walked toward him, she could feel the cold, deadly power within him. It filled the air around him, sucking all warmth out of it. Luke grasped Leia’s hand even tighter.

“Lord Vader,” said the Emperor.

Their father bowed low to him.

“And Lady Vader,” the Emperor continued.

Leia watched as their mother’s jaw twitched when the Emperor called her that. She had been a queen once. She had been a senator. And he should have called her Amidala, not Vader. But their mother did not correct him, so Leia did not either.

“A very fine evening for it,” said the Emperor.

“Yes, Emperor,” said their father.

Their mother had a few more words. She complimented the room and the band, keeping her tone polite and formal. She made a fine diplomat. Leia wanted to be like that someday.

The Emperor smiled a joyless smile at her words and then turned his horrible eyes on Luke and Leia.  


“They’re growing powerful,” he said.

“Their training is going well,” agreed their father.

The Emperor raised his hand and waved them closer. Leia moved slowly to him, pulling Luke along with her. The Emperor reached out and touched her wrist and Leia saw things that she didn’t think she was meant to see. But the Emperor did not seem angry with her. In fact, he only smiled.

“Powerful, indeed,” he said.

***

Their father didn’t like these social gatherings, but their mother led him around to speak with the various generals, admirals, and governors in the room. Luke and Leia were usually allowed to wander around on their own at such events, but tonight their mother kept them close. They had to endure all the dull small talk of the adults, rather than finding the refreshments table and then sneaking outside to play as they usually did. Leia tried to focus, to listen to what they were saying, but it all sort of merged into a boring mass of funding, starship production, rebellions, and taxation. Their father didn’t say much, not that anyone minded. The other officials all seemed to fear him, though they all liked talking with her mother. 

“Congratulations on your new baby,” Leia heard their mother tell a young military officer.

“Thank you, Lady Vader. We are very proud of him. A new soldier to serve the Empire, like your own son,” said the young man.

“Will you have any more children?” the man’s wife asked.

That took their mother slightly aback.

“Oh. No, I don’t think so,” she said.

The officer’s eyes passed to their father, but then he quickly looked away from the glare of his mask. The officer assumed that he was the one who couldn’t have any more children, Leia could tell. But she had overheard her parents talking once about it, and that wasn’t it. Their mother had nearly died giving birth to them and so she couldn’t have any more children. Leia had felt guilty about that when she had first heard it, until her mother had assured her that she had only ever wanted two children.

“Well, your son and daughter are so beautiful,” said the officer’s wife, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

“Thank you,” said their mother. She looked over at Luke and Leia with a soft expression.

Leia could feel someone else looking at her too, though. She looked back over to the dais, where the Emperor was sitting, and saw that his gaze was fixed on her. She flinched a little.

The band changed tune, something slower and better for dancing than the war marches. 

“One dance,” their mother said, and she managed to pull their father out on the dancefloor. He was graceful enough, but he didn’t enjoy dancing very much. Still, he did it whenever she asked him. 

Luke and Leia were the only children there, so they danced together, keeping close to their parents. Leia could feel the Emperor watching her, following her with his eyes, but she tried to focus on her parents, her brother, and the music, and forget about the fear growing within her.

***

Not too far away in the galaxy, on a planet near Alderaan, Ahsoka Tano was sitting in a tavern and watching the Imperial broadcast on the holonet. She was wearing makeup to change the shape of her facial markings, though in the ten years since the Jedi purge, her markings had changed quite a bit on their own. Still, she didn’t want to be recognized. She needed people to think she was just an average Togruta woman, sitting in an average bar, and not plotting against the Empire.

The broadcast tonight was showing the Empire Day celebrations on Coruscant - no, not Coruscant, the Imperial Center, Ahsoka corrected herself. She felt sick as she watched the grand parade through the city, moving past the old Jedi Temple, which had been rebuilt into the Imperial Palace, where Palpatine lived. A band marched across the screen and the crowd cheered for them. A large image of Palpatine on a banner was carried behind the band, and the crowd cheered even louder. Ahsoka turned back to her drink and took a long sip.

“The revelry in the Imperial City is outdone only by the celebration within the Palace itself,” she heard the holonet announcer say.

She looked back up and watched as officials in fine uniforms entered the Palace. She saw a glimpse of Mas Amedda, a Chagrian politician who was ever loyal to Palpatine, and Senator Orn Free Taa of Ryloth, but otherwise all the officials were human. The Empire had turned most other species into low class citizens, unworthy of higher rank. 

The announcers were discussing the fashions and the expense of the celebrations. It made Ahsoka clench her drink so hard that she nearly shattered the glass. The galaxy was bleeding and yet all the holonet announcers could speak of was how splendid the murderers looked in their fancy clothes. 

Fireworks burst over the palace and the crowds below roared their applause. Fortunately, though, the bar where Ahsoka sat stayed quiet. The patrons merely watched the holonet in silence, most with grim expressions on their faces. The Empire had not been kind to this planet, it seemed.

The name “Vader” caught her attention, as the announcers said that he and his wife had just arrived at the palace. Ahsoka didn’t know how anyone could marry such a monster as Vader, but she had heard the rare mention of Lady Vader through the spy network. Apparently they even had some children.

Ahsoka watched the dark figure of Vader climbing the steps, with a woman in a red dress holding his arm and two smaller figures behind them. The camera moved closer, showing the mask of Vader and the face of his wife.

Ahsoka felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

It wasn’t possible. It had to be some trick.

Padmé Amidala would never marry any Imperial, and especially not Darth Vader. It had to be a trick. Or else, she had been forced into the marriage. That thought made Ahsoka feel even worse.

How had she not known about this until now?

Ahsoka finished her drink in one gulp and ran out of the tavern, back to her ship. She had half a mind to fly straight to the Imperial Center, grab Padmé, and run, but that would be reckless, even beyond something that Anakin would have done. Ahsoka shook her head. Anakin was dead and there was no point in thinking about him. She needed to reach the meeting location with Bail Organa. Maybe then she would get some answers.

***

Ahsoka flew out to an empty, uncolonized planet in the Alderaanian system. It had no life of any kind, but the atmosphere was safe to breath, albeit very cold. She landed her starcraft at the coordinates that Organa had given her, and then she waited. The Alderaanian sun moved higher in the sky and reflected off the ice-covered surface of the planet, nearly blinding. Ahsoka sat back, trying to remember the Jedi teachings of patience. It had never been her strength, to be honest. Like Anakin, Ahsoka had thrived in action as a young padawan, but had grown tense and fidgety in times of waiting.

But then again Ahsoka wasn’t a Jedi. Or perhaps she would always be one. She wasn’t sure. It probably didn’t matter anymore.

She leaned back in the pilot’s chair of her ship, crossing her hands over her stomach and closing her eyes. A memory came to her, then. 

A political mission to Alderaan had resulted in an assassination attempt on Senator Amidala. They had made a decoy, a droid that projected Padm é’s voice and gave her speech, in an attempt to draw out the assassin, Aurra Sing. But Sing had not been fooled. Padmé had stayed hidden, alone in a remote little room, but Sing had found her, crept upon her through the air ducts. Sing had slid her rifle through the grate over the air duct, aiming for Padmé. She had fired, but Ahsoka had been quicker, and knocked the blaster bolt out of the way before it could strike Padmé.

In that moment, Ahsoka’s mind had been so clear. She had loved Padmé so dearly. The Jedi forbid any sort attachment, but Ahsoka had broken the rule and loved often. She, who had left her family behind on Shili when she was only three years old, had found a new family. She had Anakin and Obi-Wan and Rex and Padmé, who became as dear to her as brothers and sisters, and she would have done anything to protect them. At the time, the thought of losing any one of them had been unbearable.

Now, they were all gone.

Anakin was dead. Obi-Wan was lost, but most likely dead, as well. Rex was deep in hiding. And Padmé had the worst fate of them all, imprisoned in marriage to the Emperor’s most vicious commander. Padmé would not have chosen that, Ahsoka decided. She was too good, too strong. So she must have been forced into it. There had to be a way to reach her and to rescue her.

A starship entered the planet’s atmosphere and flew down to land next to Ahsoka’s, breaking her out of her thoughts. She stood and donned a thick fur coat before she opened the hatch to her ship. The door lowered with a hiss, and the icy winds of the planet instantly whirled around her, cutting right through her coat. She lowered her head and ran over to Bail’s ship, her fingers growing numb just from the short trip. Bail closed the door behind her and she shed her coat.

It was a small ship that he had, little more than a two person cockpit and storage room. Bail was waiting for her in the pilot’s seat and she sat beside him. Both of them looked straight ahead.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to come back,” he said, breaking the silence. “The rebellion is facing heavy losses right now, as you’re aware. This Vader...he’s almost unstoppable. We’ll have to be delicate about it, of course. You might be the greatest fighter we have, but as a Jedi, you will attract the Empire’s attention.”

“Padmé,” Ahsoka said, not fully hearing all that Bail was saying.

He started at the mention of his old friend, then his face fell.

“So you’ve seen it,” he said.

Ahsoka nodded.

He took a breath, quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I wanted to tell you, but I did worry…”

“What I would do?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I should have trusted you more.”

Ahsoka watched a downpour of sleet and snow falling in the distance. The storm would reach them before too long.

“No, you were probably right,” she said. “Now that I know, all I can think about is breaking into the Imperial Center and flying her out of there.”

Bail looked over at her at last, his eyes sad.

“An impossible task,” he said.

“I know.”

And she did know it. Logically, she knew that the planet was impenetrable and that the full might of Palpatine’s armies would defend it. Even if the entirety of the rebel forces decided to unite and join in the rescue attempt, they would still fail.

“How did it happen?” she asked after a long moment. She didn’t have to specify what she meant.

“I don’t know all the details. I know she gave birth soon after the rise of the Empire. She must have been hiding her pregnancy for some time. I can’t say for certain who the father was. There was another senator, Rush Clovis, whom she was fond of in the past, so it could have been him. But the children were born before her marriage to Vader, I think. My suspicions are that the Empire used the children to force her cooperation, to...coerce her into the marriage. Perhaps Darth Vader wanted an heir. I hear rumors about him. He has injuries beneath that suit, though they do not seem to adversely affect his fighting. But if he cannot have children of his own, he could have taken two that are not his and claimed them as his own. Or perhaps he has some other purpose for them. I don’t know. Who can fathom the mind of the Sith?”

Ahsoka didn’t respond right away, too lost in thought. Padmé and her children were all trapped by the Empire.

“Padmé is strong,” Bail said, in answer to Ahsoka’s silence. “She will survive and she will ensure that her children survive. And on occasion, she might even slip some important information to the rebellion.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened at that.

“She’s the spy?” she asked.

“One of them. She does what she can and we are grateful for it. We must do what we can and be wise enough to know the things we can’t.”

He reached out and handed her a holodisc.

“Your next mission, Fulcrum,” he said.

She took the disc and stood up.

“Things that seem impossible are not always. Anakin taught me that,” she said, and with that she left Bail in his ship and returned to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!


	6. A New Mission

Usually Vader liked to leave early from such formal parties, but this time his presence was required for the entirety of the evening. He loathed such affairs, if he was honest, though he never said so, not even to Padmé. He knew she hated them, as well, but they both had to do what was expected of them. This was a special Empire Day, as well, the tenth anniversary of the Emperor’s rise to power. 

Ten years.

It was ten years ago that Vader had marched his troops to the Jedi Temple, at this very site, and rid the galaxy of the next generation of Jedi. Soon after that, the Temple had been stripped and converted into the Imperial Palace, taller than any other building on the Imperial Center. It made Vader’s own palace look rather modest in comparison. But no amount of gilded opulence could make Vader forget the things he had seen - the things he had done - at this place.

He wanted to leave. He wished he was home with his wife and children, where he could remove his mask and spend a quiet evening playing dejarik or listening to Padmé read stories to Luke and Leia. Instead, he followed Padmé around the ballroom, as bored as their children by all the dull politicians.  Still, even the most tedious of parties had to come to an end. Sure enough, as the night stretched late, the officials and their spouses began to bid the Emperor goodbye and take their leave.

“Not long now,” said Padmé under her breath, though whether she was speaking to him or to herself, Vader wasn’t sure. She kept a firm grip on his arm and a close eye on Luke and Leia. He reached up and touched her hand.

Mas Amedda came up to them then, wearing a golden robe and still carrying the ceremonial speaker’s staff. Luke stepped away from him as he approached. Luke had met so few non-human species and they tended to make him nervous. Vader would have to work with him on that. His son should not be scared of some simple Chagrian.

“Lord Vader, the Emperor would like a word with you in private,” said Mas.

“Very well,” said Vader. Padmé looked like she didn’t want to let go of his arm, but she did and took Leia’s hand instead.

Vader left them in the ballroom and followed Mas out through one of the doors behind the dais, where the Emperor was waiting in an empty corridor.

“Leave us,” said the Emperor to Mas Amedda, who retreated back into the ballroom, closing the door behind him and blocking out all sounds of music and laughter.

“Walk with me, my friend,” said the Emperor. 

Vader followed him down the echoing hallway, until they came to a set of large windows that looked out over the city.

“Magnificent, isn’t is?”

“Yes, my Master,” said Vader. His breathing apparatus made a rattling sound.

“I know you do not like such events. You never were one for silly parties. But I appreciate your attendance nonetheless. It does the soldiers good to see you. They fear you, of course, as they should, but they are impressed by you, as well.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Your wife is quite charming, as always.”

Vader breathed in and out and then said, “Yes, she has always been a capable diplomat.”

“Quite so. And if I didn’t doubt her loyalty so much, I might even find a position for her.”

Vader felt a twisting in his stomach, though he kept his breathing and his heart rate steady.

“Padmé will never act against the Empire. She is well aware what is at stake,” he said.

The Emperor smiled at that, a sickly and twisted sort of smile. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Still, she will stay where she is, nothing more than the wife of my supreme commander.”

The Emperor was quiet for a moment, looking hungrily down at the celebrating crowds below. Vader imagined it was quite raucous and loud on the streets, but the glass of the Palace was well soundproofed, and so they heard none of it.

“I have a new mission for you. I am growing tired of the resistance on Ryloth, this Free Ryloth Movement. Senator Taa is useless, as usual, at bringing his people in line. It is time we saw that planet soundly conquered. I have sent dozens of battalions already, but it seems that without a proper commander to lead them, they have been ineffective.” The Emperor’s voice turned into more of a growl with each word he spoke.

Vader was quiet, trying to find the right words.

“You are disappointed?” the Emperor asked.

“No, Master. I will admit, I had hoped to have more time with my family, but the needs of the Empire come first, as always.”

“Then you will depart tomorrow.”

Vader bowed low to him and then led the way back down the long corridor, and into the ballroom.

“You’ve done your duty tonight. Take your wife home,” said the Emperor.

Vader bowed once more. He returned to Padmé and the children. Without saying a word, he took Padmé’s hand and walked with them out of the Palace.

***

“You have to leave again?” Padmé asked.

She sat on their bed, her hair still damp from bathing after the ball. She had exchanged her elaborate gown for a simple shift and washed her face free of all makeup. She looked so beautiful like that, Vader thought. He should probably be thinking of other things, preparing himself for the mission, but it was his last night with Padmé for what could be weeks, perhaps even months. He wanted to make the most of it.

“I thought we would have more time,” she said.

He reached out and brushed her cheek gently.

“I know,” he said, “but the Empire needs me.” He knelt down next to the bed and took her hand. She reached out and cupped his face.

“I will make quick work of it and return to you as quickly as I can,” he said.

Padmé shivered a little at that, though she tried to hide it. She didn’t like to hear about his missions. She kept her hands on his face, though, tracing along the scars there. Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer against her. She was a strong and endurant woman, Vader knew that, but she felt so fragile when he held her. Perhaps it was just the power he now possessed. He knew what he was capable of and knew how much he could hurt her if he lost control. He was always delicate with her because of it, sometimes more delicate than she wanted him to be. But, along with Luke and Leia, she was the most precious thing in the world to him.  If he could, Vader would spend every night with her, worshiping her body. The sounds she made and the way she dug her nails into his shoulders, her taste and her softness - well, he would burn the whole galaxy to the ground just to experience it one more time.

He had to leave her the next morning, to fly once again into battle. But they still had tonight, and he would make every moment count.

***

Ahsoka’s ship came out of hyperspace in the outer rim, in front of Ryloth, the planet of the Twi’leks. Ryloth was primarily a red, desert planet, full of mesas and dry expanses of rock, but there were a few scattered jungles and narrow seas. She had been there once before when the Republic had worked with resistance fighters to liberate Ryloth from Separatist control. They had been successful then in freeing the Twi’leks from oppression. Now, however, they faced a far more formidable enemy in the Galactic Empire.

There was an Imperial blockade around the planet, but it was a small one, made of just two  _ Gozanti _ -class cruisers. Even the Empire did not have the resources to keep a full blockade around every occupied planet. This one was enough to keep any battleships from entering, but a small freighter like Ahsoka's could pass through undetected. She flew into the atmosphere, keeping a good distance from the cruisers and then directed her ship toward the southern hemisphere of the planet. The main base of the Free Ryloth Movement was deep in one of the equatorial jungles, hidden by the thick vegetation, shield generators, and signal scramblers. Ahsoka would meet the resistance leader there, a Twi’lek named Cham Syndulla, who had founded the Free Ryloth Movement. 

Cham had been a symbol of Twi’lek resistance against oppression for well over a decade, his status practically legendary on Ryloth. He was known to be a man of principle - a freedom fighter, not a terrorist - who had spent the early years of Imperial rule amassing weapons and uniting fighters to use against the Empire. Ahsoka had fought with him at the Battle of Lessu, though she hadn’t actually met him then. He had been fighting on the ground with Mace Windu, securing the bridge into the capital city, and she had been part of the air attack with Anakin. After the battle, she and Anakin had been quickly called away to Felucia. The Clone Wars had been that way, just one battle after another, seemingly endless and all so pointless in the end.

Ahsoka rubbed her eyes. She needed to concentrate.

She had read the reports of the fighting so far on Ryloth. The Free Ryloth Movement had stayed relatively quiet at first. They had focused on amassing their strength and planning small attacks across the planet to test the Empire. Heavier fighting had broken out more recently in the Tann Province, after the Empire had increased its recruitment of Twi’lek slaves to work the ryll mines. The fighting had been brutal. Though the resistance had managed to take out a major weapons depot and a communications hub, they had ultimately been forced to retreat and form their new base in the southern jungles.

Ahsoka followed the coordinates on the holodisc that Bail had given her and at last the base came into view. It was well hidden, she was pleased to see, a scattering of buildings all obscured by the thick growth of vegetation. She lowered her ship carefully onto the landing platform, which was not much more than a small clearing in the trees. She disembarked and immediately recognized Cham Syndulla from the holoimages she had seen. He was tall and thin, with an angular face and tattoos over his lekku. If the sensitivity of the Twi’lek’s lekku was anything like her own, she imagined it must have been a fairly painful experience.

Cham stepped forward and offered his hand to clasp. He smiled, showing his teeth that had been filed into points, as was the tradition for the male Twi’leks.

“Master Jedi, you are most welcome at our base,” he said.

“Thank you, but you can just call me ‘Ahsoka.’” 

Cham turned to two Twi’lek women who stood behind him. One seemed about Cham’s age with light blue skin and filed teeth, as well. The other was younger, barely out of her adolescence, and wearing a pilot’s jumpsuit.

“This is my daughter, Hera, and my lieutenant, Isval,” said Cham, gesturing to each of them. “Allow us to show you the base.”

The Rylothian resistance was composed mostly of Twi’leks, though there were a few other species, as well. One of the larger rebel cells, the Massassi Group had sent plenty of reinforcements, and so there were humans, Mon Calamari, Kages, and Ardennians mixed in among the fighters. There was also one surprisingly familiar face at the base, though Ahsoka didn’t recognize his appearance at first. The clones aged at twice the rate of an average human, and she hadn’t seen a clone in years. His hair was cut short and no longer dyed blond, and he had a bushy and graying beard. He was older, a little more wrinkled and a little less muscled, but when she reached out, the Force signature of Captain Rex still felt just the same.

“Commander,” he said, his lips starting to twitch up in smile.

She pulled him into a hug, so tight that she was probably hurting him a little. She loosened her grip.

“Rex. I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

“You, too. Though I can’t say it’s always been easy.”

Ahsoka let go of him and took a moment to look him over again, at all the changes to his face. He still felt like the dear friend she had fought with so long ago. She wondered if he was the only clone in the galaxy to escape Order 66. A large part of Ahsoka wanted to sit down with Rex and listen to everything that he had been doing since they had parted ways, but it seemed they would have to wait. After Cham showed Ahsoka the ship hangars, weapons storage, and bunkers, he led them to the meeting room, intent on his plans for raiding in the north.

The meeting room was underground, in the lower levels of one of the buildings, and was lit only by the glow of the computers and holoimages. Cham and Isval stood in the center, by the holotable, and waited as the resistance fighters gathered around them.

“The Empire is stretching itself thin,” Cham began. “They are expanding past what they can control and they are losing resources. We don’t have the weapons or soldiers to launch any large scale attacks. So our focus is on wearing them out, exhausting their troopers and their ammunition. It does no good to meet them out in the open. But in the mountains and the jungles, we can pick them off, destroy what we can. Our capital city, Lessu, has fallen, but we can still protect our southern cities. Kaxal still stands strong within the jungle, independent of Imperial control, and we stand between them and the Imperial forces. We will not let them pass.”

Isval turned to the holotable and began to show them maps of the southern jungles. She pointed out the known Imperial bases and outposts, and the potential routes they would take as they marched south. Other resistance leaders stood and gave their own speeches, both to inspire the troops and discuss the battle plans. 

Ahsoka listened carefully to the speeches, though she found her eyes wandering to Hera, standing just behind her father and Isval. She looked to be around nineteen or twenty in age, but there was something so young about her. Ahsoka was twenty-seven now, not old by any means, though some days she felt that way. She supposed that she had been even younger than Hera when she had first gone to war. Ahsoka had been just fourteen years old at her first battle on Christophsis. She had adapted, in a way. All the Jedi padawans had. 

Ahsoka’s assignment from the rebellion was not one of active combat, which gave her both a feeling of relief and disappointment. Rather, they had sent her to Ryloth to aid in battle strategy and to train the new recruits, not too different from her time on Onderon, training insurgent fighters against the Separatists. Bail Organa still feared that she would attract too much attention acting as a Jedi - or at least as a Force wielder - and so, for now, her lightsabers remained unignited and unused at her belt.

***

The northern provinces of Ryloth had been secured and had lived peacefully under Imperial control for several years. It was the southern lands, however, that still supported the resistance movement and still harbored the terrorists. They kept to the jungles mostly, though they would come out to raid Imperial supply lines and send assassins to kill the officers. They were gaining traction, as well. Several of the southern villages had begun to form their own militias and join with the resistance. Some had even managed to overthrow the small Imperial units that occupied their towns. 

Darth Vader and the 501st Legion flew to the southern hemisphere of the planet and landed at one of the Imperial outposts on the front lines of the fighting. The outpost was little more than a handful of tents and tanks behind a deflector shield, too weak to defend against any large-scale rebel attack. There was a colonel in charge there, some young upstart who took great offense to Vader seizing his command. He tried to object, but Vader quickly convinced him otherwise.

“Get rid of that body,” Vader said.

Two stormtroopers stepped forward and quickly removed the corpse of the young colonel from the command tent. 

“Now, who was second-in-command?” Vader asked.

Another young man stepped forward.

“I am, sir. Captain Leden.” His voice shook a little, but he tried to cover it.

Vader flicked on the holotable in the center of the tent and pulled up a map of the region. He observed it for a moment, silent other than the sound of his breathing apparatus.

“Good. You will take twenty stormtroopers to scout around this village,” Vader said, pointing to the map. “I want to know their numbers and defenses. We’ll take it tomorrow morning and then meet up with the 457th and 891st battalions to press forward into the jungle.”

It took Leden a moment to realize Vader was speaking to him.

“Of course, sir. But, if you don’t mind, that village has little value. There are no mines or industry there and barely enough of a population to make it worthwhile. It may divert us from our southern course.”

Vader looked up and Leden swallowed. 

“What do you see directly to the south?” Vader asked.

“Hills, sir, but they are not too steep as to be impassable for the walkers.”

“Not impassable, but slower.”

Vader had been to Ryloth before, long ago. It had been a different time then, and he had had a different name. He had seen firsthand how inferior the war machines could be on the rough terrain of the planet, and he had seen how the Twi’leks, riding on strange but surefooted creatures, had beaten the Separatists droids. No, the hills provided too much cover for the rebels.

“We will take the southeastern route, starting with the village,” said Vader.

The captain looked like he might object again, so Vader took a step closer to him.

“Right away, Lord Vader,” said Leden. He bowed and left the tent.


	7. The Ryloth Resistance

The village was tiny, so small that Vader did not think it even had a name. Or perhaps he had simply not bothered to learn it. 

As Captain Leden had said, the village had no mines or business, no serious weapons or defenses. Most of the villagers had already retreated to the south, leaving behind only a few stubborn farmers who refused to abandon their lands. Some of them had even tried to fight back against the stormtroopers, though they only had about two rifles and a few crude spears in total. It had been pathetic, really. The fighters had been killed and the rest of the villagers had surrendered quickly enough. Then the Empire had moved into the settlement, taking over the huts and houses.

Vader looked over at a pasture of fat blurrgs. They had grown nervous during the brief battle, but had since settled down and returned to their grazing. They were odd creatures, stoutly built and with wide, gaping mouths. They didn’t look like it, but Vader knew they were agile and sure-footed climbers of the Rylothian mountains.

“Should we keep them as mounts, sir?” asked one of the stormtroopers.

“No, turn them into protein packs,” said Vader. He walked away as the troopers began shooting down the animals and headed back into the center of town, where the Twi’lek survivors had been rounded up. They sat, huddled together, about twenty of them in total. A few stormtroopers stood guard over them, holding their blasters loosely in their hands, but the Twi’leks made no moves to try and escape.

“Shall we send them to the ryll mines near Lessu? They’re always in need of more slaves,” said Leden.

Vader had been focused on the prisoners and hadn’t actually noticed the captain approach him.

“Slaves,” Vader repeated.

Leden frowned.

Vader signaled to his men in the 501st, who marched up to the village center. He raised a gloved hand and then lowered it. The 501st opened fired on the villagers, making quick work of them. Vader grabbed Captain Leden by the collar and threw him in to die with the villagers. 

“Burn the bodies,” he said to the stormtroopers.

He would need a new second-in-command, it seemed.

***

The weeks passed in the resistance base and Ahsoka felt even more pent up than she had on her lonely little moon. She spent her days teaching the new recruits how to shoot rifles, throw grenades, and disrupt the Imperial shields. And every day more bad news poured into the base. The Empire was escalating its attack, and its southern forces were growing more and more efficient, in the most brutal way. The village of Napuaa had been destroyed. They had no first hand reports of the attack, but resistance scouts had found the remains of the place, burnt to the ground. The scouts saw glimpses of the Imperial battalions marching south, as well, but the Imperials were going the southeastern route, staying in the flatlands. The resistance fighters did not dare get too close and expose themselves by venturing out into open plains.

“They will reach the jungles, and then we will have the advantage,” Hera said.

Ahsoka was not so convinced.

One day, a scout arrived back and told them of another battalion, this one moving south through the mountains rather than the plains.

“We’ll send a unit to counter them. Snipers and blurrg-riders. Eshgo and Letta will disable the shield generators with a pulse gun, and the rest will hit the battalion hard from above, and then retreat into the cave system,” said Cham. He, Isval, and Ahsoka were alone in the meeting room this time.

“The pulse guns will only disable the generators for three minutes. If you’re lucky,” said Ahsoka.

“We know,” said Isval. “But it will have to be enough.”

Ahsoka tapped one of her lightsaber handles.

“I would like to accompany the unit,” she said.

Cham frowned.

“I’m a good shot with a rifle. No lightsabers, you have my word. But I would like to see the strength of this battalion myself,” said Ahsoka.

“Of course, Master Jedi,” said Cham. He called Ahsoka that sometimes, and Ahsoka had stopped correcting him.

***

Ahsoka and Rex took their positions on a rocky outcropping in the mountains. It was a good enough spot, with decent cover and a direct view of the little canyon below. The Imperial battalion was still half a mile away, but they were marching forward at the base of the canyon and would be in range before long. Ahsoka and Rex set up their sniper rifles, checking the sights, and then lay down behind the rocks to wait.

“He’d be proud of you, you know,” said Rex.

Ahsoka looked up at him.

“General Skywalker, I mean.”

“I knew who you meant,” she said.

They were quiet for a moment. The day was hot and stagnant, and the spot they had chosen protected them from being viewed from below, but offered them no shade from the relentless Rylothian sun. Ahsoka wiped a bit of sweat off of her face.

“I wish I could have said goodbye to him, said more to him. When I felt him die…” Ahsoka trailed off.

Anakin was the closest thing she had had to a brother. She had loved him, but she had made him sad, as well. She wished she could go back and tell him that she hadn’t left the Jedi Order because of him. He had been the only one to stand by her side and believe in her innocence. He was the main reason she had wanted to stay with the Jedi. But it wasn’t enough, and so she had walked away.

They had met again, just once, before the Siege of Mandalore. They had been in the middle of a war, and the meeting had been sad and strange.

And then he had died.

“Here they come,” said Rex, breaking Ahsoka out of her memories. 

She sat up a little and looked through the sight of her rifle. They weren’t in range yet, but she could see them.

“Now, we just need Eshgo and Letta to make their move,” muttered Rex.

Ahsoka watched the stormtroopers marching forward in neat rows, their white armor turning yellow from the dust of the canyon. She thought they must be suffocating in those helmets in the heat, but they did not remove them. The air around them rippled and tinged a pale blue, the only visible sign of the shield that surrounded them. There were three AT-DPs with them, clanking along behind the troops, but mercifully no AT-ATs.

Then Ahsoka saw another figure, riding on a speeder behind the first unit.

The figure was clad entirely in black and wore a black cape. He had a triangular mask with just a red slit for the eyes. Ahsoka reached out with the Force and felt the malevolent energy coming from the figure.

“There’s an Inquisitor with them,” she said, her heart beating faster.

She hadn’t seen an Imperial Inquisitor since she had killed Sixth Brother and taken the kyber crystals from his lightsabers. It had been a difficult enough fight to face Sixth Brother alone, and this one had an entire battalion at his back.

“We need to call off the attack,” said Ahsoka, but not soon enough.

Below them, Eshgo and Letta moved forward, raising the pulse gun, but the Inquisitor was expecting them. He raced forward, passing through the shield and moving along the canyon wall. The Inquisitor leapt from the speeder, and in midair ignited a double-bladed lightsaber. He cut down the two Twi’leks before either one could even get a finger on the pulse gun’s trigger. 

Ahsoka turned her rifle to the Inquisitor and fired, but it glanced off of his armored pauldron. His masked face looked up at her and he drew a blaster to fire back. Without thinking, Ahsoka leapt from the outcropping, falling down into the canyon. 

She landed gracefully and faced the Inquisitor. She took out her lightsabers and ignited them both. The white blades extended outward, throwing light over the shadows in the canyon.

“Do you recognize them? They were a gift from your Sixth Brother,” said Ahsoka, raising the lightsabers.

The Inquisitor said nothing, only lunged at Ahsoka. He was ferocious and strong, but unrefined in his use of the Force. Ahsoka hadn’t fought in a lightsaber duel in some time, but she had spent every day on that boring and lonely moon hunting, training, and meditating. Ahsoka blocked a few blows from the Inquisitor, and then he tried to strike her in the head. Ahsoka ducked and spun into position behind him. She thrust her lightsabers up through his back and dropped his body to the ground. 

Death must have been instant, as the Inquisitor did not so much as twitch upon the canyon floor. Ahsoka crouched down and pulled off his mask.

He was a Zabrak, with dark hair and unsettling pale gold eyes. Ahsoka recognized him. He had been a youngling in the Jedi Temple when Ahsoka was a padawan. She had never learned his name. Ahsoka tossed his mask into the dust.

A blaster bolt hit the canyon wall near her head. The stormtroopers had caught up with her.

“Commander, get out of there!” Rex shouted.

But instead Ahsoka picked up the Inquisitor’s double-bladed lightsaber and hurled it at the unit. It spun like a glowing red disc and struck the shield generator, along with several of the troopers standing next to it. Only then did she turn and run.

***

“Third Brother is dead.”

Vader looked up from his battle plans at the messenger who had spoken.

“He tried to cross through the mountains to meet up with you near the jungles. But his battalion was ambushed. The resistance fighters managed to break the shield generator and attack. Not many troopers survived.”

“He was foolish,” said Vader.

He had trained the Inquisitors personally and their failures always grated on him. His students should know better than to not obey his orders thoroughly and immediately. He had told Third Brother to march east, but apparently Third Brother had decided on the shortcut through the mountains instead, and he had died for it. Still, it was no great loss. He had been ambitious, but rather weak.

“There is more, sir,” said the messenger.

Vader felt a flare of annoyance at the messenger’s hesitation, but he waved for him to continue.

“It was a Jedi, sir, who killed Third Brother..”

The annoyance grew into anger and Vader began to pace in the command tent.

“A Jedi?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. And not just a young one. This one was...capable. The men didn’t get a good look at her, but they said they thought she was a Togruta.”

The messenger ducked to the ground as Vader sent the entire holotable flying across the room. He stormed out of the tent, into the night.

***

The combined battalions led by Vader reached the shrublands, where the vegetation began to grow dense and tall. They were fast approaching the jungle, and the resistance cells were beginning to creep out and attack the Imperial troops. There was too much cover for them, even here.

“Burn it down,” Vader said.

The main force of TIE-fighters had been stationed at Lessu, the former capital city of Ryloth, but Vader had called many of them down to the south. Lessu was easily defended and he needed the aerial support on the front lines. 

The ships flew out from the base camp in formation, and then broke apart from each other to cover more area. Vader watched as the fire bombs began to fall over the shrublands, igniting the dry plants like tinder. More ships flew out further to the jungle and they began to drop their loads, not bombs, but poison - poison that would seep into the soil and kill the plants from the roots up. Vader would find the base of the resistance if he had to level the entire jungle.

As he watched the smoke rising up in the distance and the orange glow of the flames, Vader heard a beep from his holopad. He retreated into his personal tent and kneeled on the ground there before answering the holocall. The blue image of the Emperor rose up in front of him.

“How is your progress, my apprentice?”

Vader told him of their march south, the villages they had destroyed and the rebels they had killed.

“We approach the resistance base now. Once we take it and wipe out the resistance, the city of Kaxal will fall, as well. It is the last rebellious stronghold of Ryloth, and we will have it within the fortnight.”

“I am pleased to hear it. You may return to the Imperial Center once you have control of Kaxal. I should hope my generals are capable enough to hold the planet after you have finished conquering it for them.”

“Yes, my Master.”

The Emperor looked down on him for a moment.

“I sense there is more,” he said.

Vader hesitated for a moment and then said, “I believe the apprentice of Anakin Skywalker lives. And that she has killed Third Brother.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am not. But a Jedi was seen on Ryloth. It could be her.”

“Very well. Bring her to me alive if you can. It seems we are in need of a new Inquisitor.”

“Yes, my master.”

Vader leaned forward to turn off the holocall, but it seemed the Emperor was not quite finished.

“Anakin Skywalker was quite fond of his apprentice. I hope you do not carry any of that affection still in you, Lord Vader.”

“No, Master.”

“I am going to pay a visit to your wife today. I will let her know you are safe and that you will be home to her soon, victorious.”

Vader clenched his fist.

“You will have the apprentice, just as you will have Ryloth,” he assured the Emperor.

“That is good,” said the Emperor, and he ended the call, leaving Vader alone in the room.

Slowly, Vader stood and went back outside. The smoke was growing thick around them, and some of the officers were beginning to cough from it. The stormtroopers and the clones were unaffected, of course, as the filters on their helmets kept them safe. Vader walked through the camp to where his own TIE-fighter was stationed. He climbed into it and flew up, setting off toward the southern jungles.

***

The klaxon horns sounded throughout the base as the lights flashed red, on and off. They were not under attack, as of yet, but the shrublands were all aflame and the Imperial ships were dropping loads of putrid and toxic liquids over the jungles.

Ahsoka ran through the base to the ship hangar. There was a starfighter waiting for her, with an R7 droid already in the slot. Ahsoka climbed into the seat and waited, tense and ready for the rest of the squadron to assemble. It was a strange collection of ships that the resistance had accumulated. She was in a  _ Delta _ -class light interceptor, not unlike the one she had flown in the Clone Wars, but there were also  _ Eta _ -interceptors, y-wings, and one stolen Imperial TIE-fighter, which had been repainted gray and orange. Cham even had a collection of reprogrammed vulture droids, remnants of the Separatist occupation. They were old and rather slow, but they could at least provide some cover for the living pilots. More resistance fighters ran into the hanger and took their places in the ships.

“Red leader is ready,” said Ahsoka into her headset.

“Red two is ready,” said Hera’s voice.

“Red three is ready.”

And so they went, until the full squadron had reported in. Ahsoka took a deep breath and led the way out of the hangar.

It took them a good ten minutes of flying to catch first sight of a TIE-fighter. It was alone, though there were others in the distance. It fired at Ahsoka’s ship, but she turned her starfighter sharply on its side and blasted the TIE into pieces. Some shrapnel bounced off the nose of her ship, but didn’t seem to do any damage.

“How’re we doing, R7?” she asked the droid, who beeped a few times in return.

In the distance, the other TIE fighters were moving into formation and turning toward them.

“Here they come,” she said.

The resistance flew out to meet them and the two forces clashed together in a hail of blasterfire. The sky erupted into bright flashes of red and green. It was filled with the screaming sound of the TIE-fighters, the rumble of engines, and the explosions as ships on both sides were struck down.

Ahsoka shot down two more TIE-fighters and then ducked under a third, narrowly avoiding collision with it. She had to admit, she was a little rusty at flying the interceptor.

Then a new TIE-fighter flew past her, a strange-looking one. It was lighter in color and its wings were bent back over the pylons. The pilot, whoever it was, was impressive, in the most horrifying of ways. The TIE-fighter blasted three resistance ships out of the sky and flipped around to avoid the return fire. It dodged and wove, as if the pilot were a part of the ship, as if he could sense everything around him.

Ahsoka avoided blasts from two of the regular TIEs, shooting one of them down. She then turned her ship toward the strange TIE-fighter and began to pursue it. The TIE ducked her strike and then curved back to the north, breaking away from the rest of the Imperial forces. Ahsoka followed, reaching out with the Force as she went.

She felt cold. The pilot’s Force signature felt like ice, chilling straight through her skin and down into her heart. But it also felt familiar.

“No,” she said.

She let go of the controls. Her hands felt numb.

There had been a connection, between master and padawan, and it had been severed ten years before. Her master was dead. Anakin was dead. But somehow, the connection between them had reformed.

The R7 droid squealed and took control of the ship before it could crash. The jolt of the ship pulling sharply upward was enough to get Ahsoka out of her state. She grabbed the controls once more and pulled the ship to the side. The TIE turned with her. It was chasing her now.

It didn’t fire, but she wove and ducked anyway, her heart racing faster than ever. Then at last, the TIE fired, and struck her ship on the tip of its left wing. The interceptor began to spin, plummeting to the ground. The R7 droid managed to level the ship out and then they struck the ground hard. They slid across the surface, sending up clumps of dirt and grass, until they finally came to a stop.

Ahsoka opened her eyes and found herself slumped across the controls. Her forehead was throbbing and her vision blurred. She reached her fingers up to her head and felt something hot and sticky there. When she pulled them away, the fingers had blood on them. She reached out and pressed a button that blew off the top of the starfighter’s cockpit. The sky was dark above her, but she didn’t remember when that had happened. Last she remembered, it had still been daylight. She stood slowly and started to climb out of the ship, but she tripped halfway down and fell heavily onto the torn up ground below.

“R7, send a message to base,” she said.

The droid did not reply. Ahsoka looked up and saw that it was missing its head case and the metal around the wound looked scorched and melted. 

Then she felt it, the cold presence. Ahsoka stood, feeling dizzy and nauseous, and turned to face him. 

“Ahsoka,” he said, deep and mechanical.

He wore a black uniform, almost like an Inquisitor, though his was completely unadorned. His face was covered by a mask with reflective eyes and a large breathing filter. He stood a few yards away from her, next to his TIE-fighter.

“Take it off,” she said.

He made no move to remove the mask. His lightsaber ignited, the red glow reflecting in his suit. She reached for her own. One of them merely sputtered and sparked - it must have been damaged in the crash - but the shoto blade ignited. She tossed the broken one aside.

“You do not need to die today. Come with me and the Emperor will be merciful,” said Vader.

“I would rather die,” she said and she charged forward.

The Togruta were an agile species, more so than humans, but the crash and the wound on her head left her unbalanced. Ahsoka struck at Darth Vader, but he blocked it easily. He pushed out with the Force and threw her backwards to the ground. She rolled back onto her feet and slashed at his legs. He jumped up to dodge the blow and then blocked more of her strikes, not attacking her really, but not letting her gain any ground either. 

“Even injured, you are better than most I have to fight,” said that horrible synthetic voice.

“Yeah, I put up more of a fight than younglings and old people,” she hissed back at him. 

Then he did strike at her. She blocked it, but the force of it was enough to knock her to the ground, flat on her back. Vader stepped forward and stomped on her right wrist. There was a snapping sound and she let go of her lightsaber. Her vision swam from the pain of it, but she could still see the black mask hanging over her and the glow of the red lightsaber.

Darth Vader kneeled beside her and brought the lightsaber close to her face. With her left hand, she grabbed the handle. He pushed down on her, forcing it closer until she could feel the heat of it on her cheek.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see this sight anymore. Instead, she reached out with the Force and she felt the life all around her. She felt it in the grasses and the insects that lived in them, in the rodents and the wild tookas that fed on the insects. The heat disappeared as the lightsaber blade retracted. She wasn’t sure if she had been the one to do it, or whether it had been Vader. She opened her eyes.

“The Emperor wants you alive,” said Vader.

His gloved palm covered her forehead and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh


End file.
